


Might Make It Home

by Naomida



Series: Howl at the Moon [14]
Category: Invaders (Marvel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naomida/pseuds/Naomida
Summary: A glimpse at what Jim, Toro and Bucky are up to.





	

“Maybe we should get away from here for a while,” said Jim one morning.

Toro looked up from his breakfast to blink at him in surprise, but he didn't say anything, and Bucky didn't move from his spot against Toro's legs on the hotel room’s floor.

They had been staying there for about a week, and Jim was already restless and needed to move. Being so far away yet _so close_ to his pack was starting to drive him mad.

“The whole point of getting away from our pack is to literally be _away_ , there's no point in staying here.”

“Where do you want to go?” asked Toro.

Jim shrugged, because he hadn't really thought about it – hadn't really thought about anything except Namor's words, and the whole thing was starting to drive him crazy because there was nothing he could do about it.

“Roadtrip,” said Bucky.

Toro immediately beamed down at him, which he always did whenever Bucky spoke, especially when it was more than two words a day.

“Great idea! All our stuff is already packed, and we have Jim's car. We can leave this afternoon, drive south.”

Bucky and Jim nodded, because all they wanted was for Toro to be happy and stay with them, and even if it hurt to not be called papì anymore, having him back was more than enough.

 

 

***

 

 

Things were extremely tense between the three of them despite their best efforts. Bucky was as taciturn and intense as always since he'd been brought back by Steve, Jim was too protective and on the defensive, and Toro was so different in so many small ways, it had the other two unbalanced and not knowing how to act with him.

Spending hours upon hours inside a car was, as a result, probably the worst idea they ever had.

Werewolves usually were pretty bad at being in small spaces together unless they were of the same pack, and between a half-feral mate and a former alpha who had recently gotten rejected by a potential mate, the only way they had found to not kill each other or suffocate on the tension after only fifteen minutes was to have Toro sit by himself on the backseat, with Jim behind the wheel and Bucky on the passenger seat. Jim still didn't really trust Bucky, not like he used to back in the thirties and forties, but it was better than competing for Toro's attention. Placed like that, everyone concentrated on looking right in front of them, and the radio was on to make the atmosphere feel a little less tensed, even though no one was speaking, or breathing too loudly.

“We should go to Philly,” said Toro after two hours.

Bucky groaned his agreement, and Jim just put their destination in the GPS and continued to drive in silence.

 

 

***

 

 

“You know,” said Toro a week and two states later, because he was always the one starting conversations, “I've always dreamed of doing this.”

“This?” asked Bucky, voice rough.

He was sitting between Toro's legs and leaning back against his chest, looking more peaceful and content than Jim had _ever_ seen him, and maybe it was because they were all dead tired from being on the road non-stop for seven days, or maybe because the field they had chosen to stop at to look at the stars was setting the right kind of mood, but for the first time since he had seen him alive again, Jim had some hope that they would find a way to make everyone happy and keep Toro in their life.

“Yeah, traveling without being afraid of nazis or of being send to the Pacific front at a moment's notice. I never really thought I would get a normal life, but I still wanted it.”

Jim clasped his shoulders, and Bucky grabbed his hands and intertwined their fingers, and Toro's face grew softer, reminding Jim of that kid he had met back in '36 who wasn't even aware of the existence of werewolves yet and had latched onto him like he was a safety boat the first time they had met, shaking in fear and refusing to talk to anyone else but his eyes shinning with fearless bravery as he had ignored the blood running down his arms.

It was that kid that Jim missed the most.

 

 

***

 

 

They drove all the way to North Carolina before someone finally had the courage to ask Toro what the hell had happened so that he was back but hadn't contacted any of them before.

Unsurprisingly, it was Bucky who asked.

“You sure?” asked Toro.

They both nodded, and they all sat on the bed of the hotel-room they were sharing, squeezing under the blanket with Toro sandwiched between the two of them, and Toro told them.

He told them about dying, all by himself, face down in the snow. He told them about waking up, disoriented and panicking, and having to crawl out of his grave by himself. He told them about the woman sitting next to his grave when he finally emerged, Ann, who was the reason he was alive but couldn't explain more than “I had a dream that showed me what to do”. He told them about his time with her, about being happy even though he had no idea what day it was and how the world worked. He told them about meeting the Marrok after about a month of his new life, about asking for them and being too scared when he was told that everyone had found a new pack, that Steve and Bucky were still together, but Namor and Jim were with someone else and Brian and Roger had left the country, that Jackie was running all over Asia, still fighting evil and bad guys.

He told them about being scared of their reaction, not wanting to make them suffer more than they probably had after his death.

“It was better this way,” he said. “You all had new lives and I had mine, with Ann,” he said. “Everything was alright.”

Then he stopped talking, but Jim knew him well enough and had always been able to read him like an open book. The years had passed, and Ann was probably dead now, or not far from it, and being immortal was already complicated enough without adding the fact that Toro had lost twenty years in the ground and was separated from anyone who had known him or could have have related.

“I wasn't expecting anyone to find me,” he said, looking down at his hands and smiling softly, “but I'm glad Tony Stark did.”

Jim reached over and grabbed his hands, gently squeezing, as Bucky wrapped an arm around his shoulders and made a comforting sound in his throat.

Toro's smile grew bigger and maybe, Jim thought, they could make it all better now.


End file.
